


Satinalia

by Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Mistletoe, POV Cullen Rutherford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 18:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17146868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness/pseuds/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness
Summary: It's Satinalia and Skyhold is littered with mistletoe.





	Satinalia

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this story might cheer you up, whether you spend this time of the year on your own or with your loved ones!

Painful throbs at the back of his head brought Cullen awake from his light, uneasy slumber. He laid there, buried up to his nose in the safety of his covers, and watched the sky lighten up through the hole in the tower’s roof. He never grew tired of the sight, and that way his eyes would grow used to the light without making his ever-present headaches worse.

He shifted and noted the tightness of his shoulders from sparring with Cassandra and the Iron Bull at the same time, as well as the bruise on his flank from one of their boots.

He forced himself to leave the warmth of his bed to drop on the floor and do his morning set of push-ups and sit-ups, shivering as he did so. He was only wearing a night shirt with his smalls, and it was cold up in here. He quickly finished and washed his face in his small basin, the water  almost frozen, and styled his hair in the small mirror above. He felt more awake as he strapped on his armour, the weight familiar, and went down the ladder more easily that he anticipated.

He normally didn’t eat in the morning and would delve right away in his paperwork, but he found that having at least a cup of coffee somewhat eased his headache and made him more productive, so he grabbed his dirty dishes from the previous night and headed for the kitchens.

He could smell fresh bread as he opened the door, making his stomach grumble. About a dozen of loaves were cooling on a table on the side, the cooks busy preparing breakfast for the whole of Skyhold. They still greeted him, aware of his early schedule, and the chief approached him with a smile.

She was a middle-aged woman with a heavy Free Marches’ accent. She’d lost children and had taken a liking to him for some maker-forsaken reason.

“You look like you’re in need of a cup of coffee this morning, Commander.”

She also never bothered to go around the bush to say what she wanted to say, which was refreshing. None of that Game nonsense at breakfast. He thanked her a moment later, already sipping on a cup, burning his tongue in the process. She also cut some slices of bread, spread butter and strawberry jam on them and garnished his plate with fruits imported from her native country.

“Happy Satinalia, Commander,” she said as she presented him the plate.

“Thank you. Happy Satinalia,” he replied automatically, not realizing his words until he said them back. It was the Winter solstice already? His puzzlement must’ve shown, for she started laughing.

“Looks like you forgot about it.”

“I should know better, it happens once every year.” Had he been so deep in his personal problems he hadn’t realized the date? Now that he paid attention to it, garlands had been installed in the room, oranges plucked with cloves spreading their aroma from near the ovens.

“Well, I didn’t want to trouble you with this, but… “ she pointed at the ceiling with a giggle, and he looked up.

“The lasses thought they were clever by putting on a mistletoe up there, but the only people they got to kiss so far are each other.”

“And yourself, I presume.”

“Aye. More pleasure for them than for me, “ she laughed over the other cooks’ grumbling. She still had a smile on her face, and he contemplated his handful. He supposed tradition was tradition, no matter its obscure origins.

“Well, may I?”

“I’d be honoured, Commander.”

He leaned carefully, not wanting to spill his coffee, and pressed a kiss to her wrinkled cheek. She had flour dust on her face.

“Thank you for your aid in the Inquisition.”

She blushed and swatted at the others when they cooed at them. Cullen laughed and made his exit before anyone else approached and tempted their chance.

He should’ve known it was only the beginning. The advisors had a reunion in the morning in the war room, and he met with Josephine, Leliana and Adaar. They went through the various topics without too much arguing, which should have been alarming on its own.

It was only near the end he realized Leliana had subtly made him shift around the table until both her and Josephine started grinning. Adaar made an inquisitive sound and looked up.

“Really?”

“In all truth we all walked underneath it,” Cullen grunted, annoyed he’d been lured under a mistletoe. He sighed and gestured them forward. “Let’s get it over with, shall we?”

“Cheer up, Commander. Unless you want me to call Varric in here?”

Cullen imagined kissing the dwarf. He’d have to bend low or have the other man stand on a stool to reach his mouth, because there was no way he was lifting him, and somehow the kiss would definitely end up in one of his tales. He looked up at that damn mistletoe again and made a silent prayer.

He stood still as Leliana planted a kiss on his cheek, muttering something about stubble, then Josephine was grinning at him and pulling him to her for a chaste kiss on the lips. He dug his fingers in the golden ruffles of her arms and gently squeezed them as she let go with a giggle. He hoped he didn’t appear too flustered.

“This is some odd tradition you have, but I’ll take it,” Adaar said before slipping a hand to the nape of his neck and kissing him with a bit more tongue than Josephine had. There might have been a bit of groping involved, through the little give his armour permitted. Adaar patted his cheek after he stepped away.

The day went on with more mistletoe on the way. It appeared whoever thought of adding this tradition to Skyhold had put one in every of Cullen’s usual spots. It was odd for Cullen to be in such a festive place. He hadn’t been with his family in more than a decade, and the Templars never really celebrated, so the merry mood was unexpected but not unwelcome.

He wasn’t the only victim of the mistletoe, he saw plenty of people kissing timidly, laughing or earnestly until they caught sight of him and sheepishly wished him a Merry Satinalia. As long as people enjoyed themselves and there was no misplaced intention, he was fine with it.  

By the afternoon his headache was still a constant presence. Normally he’d drink some elfroot tea with the hopes to ease it, but he’d been so busy he didn’t even think about it.

Luckily he had some time to relax for the rest of the day. He met with Dorian in the gardens for their usual game of chess. It was a bit more chilly than usual, but like he predicted, Dorian had deemed it unnecessary to clothe himself better for the weather.

“My dear Commander, you appear to be quite festive today, from what I gathered, kissing anyone and everyone.”

Cullen felt a flush go up his collar. “I dare hope I’m not the only one who’s fallen victim to the mistletoe.”

“Not quite, but nobody else made out with the Inquisitor,” Dorian replied with a smirk. He was arranging the pieces on the table, his fingers bare in the cold.

“By the Maker, does everyone know? Leliana lured me under it.”

“It’s fine, really. After all, I know many who would like to kiss the Inquisitor. Or you, for that matter. “

A question burned Cullen’s lips at that moment, _are you one of them?_ He remained silent and took place in the opposite seat.

He made his first move. “And you, have you granted someone’s wish and kissed them under the guise of the magical branch?”

Dorian barked a laugh. “I bet they placed one in the library’s alcove just for the occasion. Good thing I have yet to visit it today.”

“A shame, I bet, for all those people lurking around the library.”

Dorian laughed again, but there was a pout of sadness when he looked down to the chess game. They played while sassing each other, a hobby Cullen was very fond of. At some point he got tired of seeing Dorian shiver, and despite his excuses, removed his fur mantle to wrap it around his shoulders. “There. I don’t know if I’m more angry at this persistent headache or at you for thinking appearances are more important than your well-being.”

He got nervous when Dorian didn’t reply right away. He looked down at the mantle and adjusted it, slowly stroke the fur. It seemed to have been made for him.

“Thank you,” he finally said, something fragile in his voice. He cleared his throat. “You have another headache?”

Cullen shrugged, moving his next pawn. “At this point, I doubt it ever goes away.”

“I’ve been making some research on healing, would you allow me?” Cullen looked up to see Dorian’s hand hovering nearby, close to his head but not touching him. He knew Dorian would never hurt him, and it was considerate of him to ask permission.

“Of course.”

His fingers gently brushed his forehead and Cullen felt a release almost immediately. Not only did Dorian soothe his headache, but also the pain in his back. He hadn’t realized how sore he was until it went away. He leaned in Dorian’s hand, sighing in contentment. Dorian was watching him intently.

“Thank you.”

“I’m always glad to ease your burden. Now, you mentioned something about appearances…” He let go to gesture upwards, and Cullen knew right away what he was pointing at.

Someone out there was trying to sabotage him.

“Was this here the whole time?” He asked, confused that he hadn’t seen it until then.

“Perhaps, but I wasn’t aware of it until you put this creature on me. How cleverly hidden.“

“And forced. “ The mistletoe had been magically installed to the arch under which they were, almost invisible to the first glance.

“Mm, we can simply pretend we kissed over chess and call it a day, Commander.” Dorian had this air of false nonchalance about him that made Cullen want to punch whoever inculcated it to him.

“I don’t mind, “ he replied, a tad too quickly. “Kissing, that is, unless you would prefer not to. Which I understand—”

Dorian’s face softened into a smile, which prompted him to stop blabbering.

They met halfway.

It was a chaste exchange, breathing into each other’s air, lips plump giving against his and the moustache a new interesting sensation, and Cullen didn’t want to let go. He swept his thumb along the dip of Dorian’s throat, not realizing he’d put his hand on his shoulder in the first place.

Afterwards they stared at each other, Cullen unsure that it even happened at all if it wasn’t for the both of them still leaning towards each other.

“Merry Satinalia, Dorian.”

Instead of answering, Dorian cupped his face in his hands to kiss him again, this time more insistent. Cullen hit the table in his attempt to get closer, scattering the chess pieces sitting on top, and swallowed Dorian’s laugh.

All in all, that mistletoe hadn’t been a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://captain-amoruca.tumblr.com/) or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/Cap-Sass-And-Salty-Sadness)!


End file.
